


Dawn.

by InvidiaSaunder



Series: Doomrauder [13]
Category: DOOM - Fandom, Doom Eternal - Fandom, Doom Eternal DLC Antient Gods
Genre: Anal Sex, Drama & Romance, Gangbang, Group Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Psychology, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 10:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29964786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InvidiaSaunder/pseuds/InvidiaSaunder
Summary: The brightest dawn always comes after the darkest night.-Commission for Gav (@gav19141918 twitter/@lostkingdoom tumbler)
Relationships: Marauder / Doom Slayer, Marauders / Doom Slayer
Series: Doomrauder [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1976530
Kudos: 5





	Dawn.

Cold walls were associated with long-awaited security, but now the Slayer swiftly crossed the gloomy corridor, without stopping or slowing down his sharp step. The whole body ached mercilessly after the next bloody massacre, the hitherto tense muscles every now and then cramped despite the vaunted regeneration, but instead of returning to his personal compartment and forgetting himself in a short, restless sleep as before, the Marine again forced himself to go forward, stepping over two, or even three steps on the ornate staircase towards the activated teleport. It seemed that the entire vast expanse of the Fortress froze in solemn silence, silently paying homage to its savior. The Dark lord is defeated. The corruption poisoning other worlds disappeared, leaving no trace behind. Glee and unbearable relief mixed into a single ball, continuing to drive on and on, as if stop - and the former horror will return again. But, no, no, he was left behind, growling and groaning in frustration, but not as dangerous as he had been a few hours earlier. As the interweaving of tenacious spider paws, which in the light of day becomes only branches, losing the night horror, so the age-old nightmare passed into the pages of history, plunged by hope in front of a better future.

The lost house is avenged. The years-long war with Hell is finally over.

For now, anyway.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

The abandoned city greets with its eternal coolness and the singing of birds that have grown bolder after a long absence, which soared into the sky in fright, noticing the approach of a stranger. As happened hundreds of years ago, when he, wounded and half-mad, shackled like some wild animal, was led along the same road in order to leave the view of the king and his court retinue. The Slayer grins, noticing the stone split after the last massacre. Long ago were those glorious days full of victorious conquests and cruel betrayal on the part of the Mother Goddess. Immersed in his thoughts, he does not notice how he involuntarily turns towards the temple dilapidated by time, the very one where the treacherous priests carried out their sacred duties, glancing with contemptuous curiosity towards the unclean blood who entered. The grass that did not have time to straighten up after heavy boots betrays his true reasons for his rare stay in the Fortress of Doom where, despite all the comforts of civilization and the things dear to his heart, collected in one place, one still felt cold and lonely. The desire to rest the soul in a familiar place each time overpowers the voice of reason, as the howl of the wind in the empty corridors drowns out the chronic pain of loss, as dark silhouettes close the bleeding wounds in the distance, that synchronously shudder and turn their horned heads towards the approaching brother.

Marauders. The only thing left of their shared past.

The only thing that can still help him.

Strong hands easily pull together the heavy plates of old armor, and the warrior cannot stop laughing softly at the thought of how a casual eyewitness would react. He, the demon slayer, a perfect form of life, was very smartly rid of his dusty clothes by these same demons, roaring dully at each other in impatience to quickly see his naked, scarred body. Sharp claws inadvertently touch the forearm, leaving a bright mark on that, and the guilty fallen immediately receives a tangible blow from the horns to the side from a vigilant fellow - this rivalry that remained after many centuries could cause a smile if physical and moral strength remained for something more than giving yourself over to someone else's embrace. The cool air inside the temple only for a moment disturbs the defenseless skin, as immediately from all sides they surround the hot, pungently smelling hellish gray bodies, supporting them with their pale hands almost like a living cradle. Their long, lizard-like tongues lovingly encircle every muscle, at least to some extent compensating for the absence of lips. One of these descends below, wet and sweepingly sweeping along the hollow between the lean buttocks, and the Slayer involuntarily shudders, as if emerging from the sweet bliss into the reality surrounding him. The demon sees this momentary confusion and slowly strokes his tense thigh with his palm - there is nothing more to be afraid of. No one will harm this tired, but full of life creature. No one. And not here.

When the flesh, hot as Hell itself, bursts into one continuous movement inward, stretching the hastily prepared intestine, the first, almost plaintive groan spreads through the spacious hall.

Clinging to the arms supporting him in the weight, the man squints and swallows finely, trying to get used to the acute sensation of fullness. The horned warrior hesitates for only a few seconds before it begins to move quickly and violently, hammering into the convulsively constricting passage, and from this pressure, unarmored fingers blindly squeezed either parts of Argent's robes, then directly bare patches of unhealthy gray skin, leaving on that quickly passing dark footprints. Both other demons were clearly trying to compensate for the somewhat painful sensations, scrupulously licking a tight belly and a rough, tanned face, as if in a naive belief that this animal care would be able to replace forever the lost ability for a human kiss. In other matters, it cannot be said that the Slayer remained dissatisfied - blindly holding on to one or the other, he reached higher and stroked the curved horns or disfigured faces, which they accepted with obvious gratitude, responding with a softly flickering scarlet gaze. Deprived of even a hint of warmth or acceptance for many hundreds of years, they reached out to the only surviving comrade with the same despair and hope with which any creature lost in the darkness goes to the source of light, trustingly believing that this light at the end of the path will shelter him, wounded by a long hike soul. And the former Marine shared these feelings, completely surrendering into the strong embrace of all three who were now stroking, biting, taking his body with bestial greed and who knows how the still preserved remnants of human love.

Something wet and hot is pressed against her face, something that easily interrupts the train of thoughts, forcing her to concentrate on the godless orgy. Having squinted his gaze, the Slayer cannot hold back a convulsive sigh when he notices a source of moist heat in front of his own face: Apparently, one of the brothers was not going to wait for his turn, and therefore was now close to his head and, with a guilty growl, he squeezed and then let go of the disheveled hair, not allowing himself to be pulled by force, even if for this it was only necessary to press lightly with a heavy palm. Understanding the silent hint, the man slowly ran his tongue along the entire length of the huge, heated penis and opened his mouth wider, giving silent permission to use himself in the way the impatient demon wanted. Obedience excites the animal nature, and not subject to his nature, the Marauder hiss triumphantly, pushing himself into the throat that was hospitably squeezing him - it was far from immediately possible to adapt to the rhythm set by the second horned one, but it was only necessary to determine the speed, both of the fallen Guardians with equal force and fury fucked an accessible body, not really caring about human's well-being. The third, on the other hand, licked each of the bare skin areas accessible to him with a long tongue, leaving behind viscous saliva from rapidly drying saliva. Hunger mingled with relief, the thirst to love and be loved turned into an acute lack of oxygen, when the hard trunk again plugged the throbbing throat, blocking the airways. Trying to distract himself from the involuntary suffocation, the Slayer groped his palm, aching from lack of affection, the member of his brother who had not yet gained access to his body and began to quickly move his hand over it, imitating the long-awaited frictions. So, squeeze at the large head and sharply pull down with a ring of tenacious fingers, pulling the foreskin to the limit in order to loosen the grip at the very base and rise up again, getting dirty in the explosive mixture of the flowing pre-ejaculate. The demon accepted this with obvious gratitude, rumbling dully from every sudden movement, his long tongue like a slimy snake carefully circled between the cast tense muscles, then the hardened beads of the nipples, and then completely descending to the trembling torso and pressed with the entire hot surface on those visible through the thickness of the skin and the meat of the outlines of mercilessly fucking flesh. The Marauder, seizing from the opposite end, watched with mute delight as the narrow pharynx again and again took in itself to the possible limit, and on the contrary - the same pale trunk, speckled with a network of dark veins, disappeared between the legs wide apart, for convenience and better access, bent at the knees.

\- Ngh...

Not holding back a quiet, stifled groan, human hardly focuses the gaze of the godlessly rolled eyes on the faces in front of him and looks at each with a trembling hand, as if demonstrating his unconditional acceptance. In response to the uncomplicated, but painfully coveted care from a comrade who did not reject them, the fallen rumbling synchronously and cuddling towards his body, so hot and full of life, so unbearably exhausted after a century of struggle. This timid, almost desperate need for warmth on the part of outwardly awkward creatures causes a tired, good-natured laugh, and the Slayer rises on his elbows before accelerating the already aggressive pace of group intercourse. Relatively huge, emitting a pungent smell of sulfur and lubrication, members mercilessly rammed from both ends, driving them to frenzy with their perversely well-coordinated work - while one again and again knocked out piercing moans, the second drowned them out at the root, forcing him to choke from the abundance of sperm flowing down his throat. With difficulty realizing what was happening under the influence of the rapidly growing discharge, the former Marine still could not hold back a faint smile when the clawed palm of the third brother covered his own, squeezing both trunks - demonic and human - so close that every vein pulsing from the blood flow was felt, after which easily adapts to fast, abrupt movements.

Move quickly, despite pain and cramps in overworked muscles. It is greedy to swallow the tart liquid, being afraid to miss even a drop of vicious nectar. Suffocate in exhaustion, losing control of the intoxicated mind. And love, love, love.

The terrible twin is defeated, and his pain is reliably sealed in the very heart of the tamed dimension, which has become the involuntary cradle of this little reproach to the deeds of the Lord. The worlds that have perished for many thousands of years, the glorious Argent D'Nur, the beloved Earth - all of them have been avenged in full. Old comrades are again nearby, albeit ugly outwardly, albeit mutilated inside like himself, the Guardians remained a family, the fear of a new loss of which could no longer be justified. And finally ... is everything okay?

Relaxed, calm, the Slayer gives his deadly exhausted body into brother's arms and finally relaxes completely, directing his detached gaze towards the windows destroyed by time. The once eerie breaks were flooded with gentle morning light, and the first rays of the sun were reflected from the fragments of the former stained-glass windows, sending multi-colored glare along the walls of the spacious hall. One of these falls straight into the crimson eyes, and the demon - no, only the deceased Guardian - hisses with some comicality, demonstrating his just displeasure, before lowering his heavy head on his bare shoulder. A person involuntarily leans under the imposing weight and immediately blinks his eyes when the warm rays finally break through all kinds of cracks, illuminating the dilapidated but still sacred building with their bright light. And it seemed that the ghosts of the Night Sentinels were again shaking the old walls with their heavy tread, and their harsh voices carried along the numerous corridors of the temple, frightening the birds nesting under the dome.

It was either the hot palm of one of the brothers, or this sun rising over the kingdom of Argenta warmed up with its gentle heat, but the rough face of the marine succumbs to fleeting warmth, as if for a moment returning the youth lost under the influence of experienced adversity, and dry, scarred lips stretch in the first for a long years, a timid smile. Somewhere on the periphery of his consciousness, he fancied a quiet grinding of rabbit incisors busily grinding straw.

His war is finally over.


End file.
